Let grasses grow and waters flow
In a free and easy way,
But give me enough of the rare ould stuff,
That's made near Galway Bay,
Come gougers all from Donegal, Sligo and Leitrim too,
And we'll give them the slip and we'll take a sip,
Of the rare ould mountain dew.
[Chorus]
Hi the diddley I dillum, diddley doodle I dillum diddley doori diddley di day
Hi the diddley I dillum, diddley doodle I dillum diddley doori diddley di day
[Chorus]
At the foot of the hill there's a neat little still
Where the smoke curls up in the sky,
By a whiff and a smell you can plainly tell,
That there's poitin boys close by.
For it fills the air with a perfurne rare,
And betwixt both me and you,
So as home we stroll, we'll take a bowl,
Or a bucketful of mountain dew.
[Chorus]
Now learned men that use the pen,
Have written the praises high,
Of the sweet poitin from Eireann's green,
Distilled from wheat and rye.
So away with yer pills, it will cure all ills,
Whether pagan, Christian or Jew,
So take off your coat and grease your throat
With a bucketful of mountain dew.
[Chorus]
Let glasses grow and the waters flow
In a free and easy way,
But give me enough of the rare ould stuff,
That's made near Galway Bay,
Come gougers all from Donegal, Sligo and Leitrim too,
And we'll give them the slip and we'll take a sip,
Of the rare ould mountain dew.
Writer(s): Ronald Joseph Drew, Barney Mckenna, Ciaran Padraig Maire Bourke
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